


There is no black and white

by QCumberShaw



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: A low key mission, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Tension, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QCumberShaw/pseuds/QCumberShaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James has a rival for Q's affections.</p><p>A movement caught his eye, he turned his head slightly and watched the two agents cross the floor. Their movements were controlled, economical, with an air of deadly menace. </p><p>There was almost a palpable air of testosterone as they passed. He grinned. Fucking show offs, there was hardly much of an audience either. MI6 and MI5’s finest. He thought about his remit. Could the department bear to have the two of them together? They seemed quite happy to play up their roles too, they’d have the techs quaking or swooning, probably both. </p><p>As for him? Bond looked at directly at him once they’d passed the last staff member. He felt the heat shoot down his stomach, directly into his cock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this just got into my head and won't let go. I don't even now where it's going, well a bit... *posts and runs*

M was approaching and he was busy, so he kept typing, still ignoring Bond’s presence. He was teasing him again, his version of flirting without making it too obvious. Q tolerated it, because he was good at it when he tried hard enough, he didn’t overstep professional boundaries, it meant he trusted Q’s decisions on missions and most importantly, Q fancied the hell out of him. Not that he was going to let on, not yet anyway. Bond was too used to easy seductions, he was going to have to work for this.

 

He wondered what had brought M here, there was no emergency and he wasn’t one for social calls. Politics then. He glanced up and saw that he wasn’t alone. The man following was tall, slim, blond hair falling in a heavy fringe over sharp cheekbones. Nice retro suit that fitted perfectly. He exuded confidence, danger and sex. Q managed to keep his usual professional façade.

 

“M.”

 

“Q.” He nodded at Bond. “007.”

 

The man held out his hand to Bond with a grin.

 

“James.”

 

“Peter.” Bond took it with a wry smile. Q’s eyebrows raised. They seemed to know each other, professionally at least. Peter was slightly taller than Bond and together… Q thanked whatever deity was around. Fuck, they looked good. Christmas had obviously come early to Q branch.

 

M was talking to him.

 

“…. so MI5 have sent him over on loan…” He tuned out again as Peter turned to him. He walked around the desk rather than keeping to the normal social parameters.

 

“Q, delighted to meet you.” He shook his hand, grip firm and prolonged. Q looked down. His fingers were long and surprisingly delicate. He stopped his mind wandering in that direction and looked up at him.

 

“Peter Guillam.” His voice was deep and his lips were incredible. Q couldn’t help but lick his. He nodded and looked questioningly at M.

 

“I think they’re rather jealous of our tech and your handling skills.” M grinned. “I’m just showing him around, see you later for a full brief.” He nodded to Guillam.

 

Q realised that Guillam was still holding his hand as he slid his fingers slowly out of his, tips brushing his wrist.

 

“l look forward to seeing you around.” He bent slightly closer, voice lower. “Brains as well as beauty.” A slight smirk played around his lips. Q barely stopped himself from blushing furiously and taking the infuriating compliment. Instead he frowned, snatching his hand back and moving to his keyboard.

 

“Agent.” Guillam chuckled and followed M. Q watched Bond out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t looking happy. He could see his hackles rise. Jealously, definitely. He waited a few minutes then huffed.

 

“Bloody unprofessional behaviour. Coming on to you like that.” Q raised his eyebrows.

 

“Really?” Bond stopped. “Pot, kettle?” Bond sat on the edge of his desk.

 

“I don’t…”

 

“Do. Incessantly.”

 

“Oh.” He looked at him. “Do you mind?” Q looked at him.

 

“If you remain professional, do your job, not be objectionable or take things further than consent has been given, then no.” He watched his reaction. “Jealously and possessiveness however, that I do object to. You don’t own me and I decide what’s acceptable.” Bond regarded him impassively.

 

“Sorry.” Q shook his head.

 

“It’s okay, sorry that was a bit heavy for the workplace.” Bond smiled and looked away for a moment.

 

“Okay, at the risk of you biting my head off, shall we continue this over dinner?” Q started typing again, not looking at him as he considered. Why not? It was the first time he’d actually made his interest open. But he’d keep it just friendly for now, especially with Guillam on the scene. He might even ask the agent out himself, if he didn’t ask first.

 

“Why not? Just dinner though.”

 

“Yes, of course. Tomorrow at seven? I’ll text you the details once I’ve booked.” He slid off the desk as Q nodded, not looking up.

 

 

He returned a few hours later with a long, narrow bouquet of flowers clutched discreetly to his chest.

 

“Sorry.” Q blushed as he presented them to him.

 

“Office, now 007.” He hissed and pushed him in, shutting the door.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Apologising.” Bond looked crestfallen.

 

“Well, yes, but not in front of my staff. For fucks sake, how am I supposed to maintain my authority if you bring me flowers.” He looked at them. “Very nice flowers, thank you.” Bond laughed.

 

“You wouldn’t be ashamed to go out with me would you?” Q glowered, ignoring Bond’s complete and deliberate missing the point.

 

“Just go.” Bond winked, leaving the flowers on his desk.

 

“See you tomorrow.” Q looked at them. He’d obviously given the selection some thought. He sighed before walking out and asking one of the nearby staff who currently didn’t seem too preoccupied with anything like work, to find a vase for the flowers.

 

“There’s no need for the innocent flowers to suffer.” He growled.

 

 

After an hour or so, he wandered down to the canteen for lunch, stomach protesting. Despite appearances, he did eat, his constant activity and nervous energy burnt off any excess as did regular use of the gym. He knew he had to, otherwise his sedentary office life would lead to health problems later. Plus he had to keep up certain skills due to the nature of the job. Anyone trying to overpower him would be in for an unpleasant surprise.  
He ate his salad before moving onto his beef casserole thinking about his potential new agent. He’d wished he’d paid more attention to what M was saying rather than gawping. Thankfully, his poker face was rather good. He was bloody attractive, a leaner version of Bond in some ways, even more of a flirt, but that may have been for Bond’s benefit. He’d obviously been watching him as they approached and he’d be a pretty shoddy asset if he couldn’t read Bond’s language. His musings were interrupted by the sight of Guillam sitting down on a table on the other side of the room. He’d not seen Q due to the position of the pillar beside him. One he often used so that he could dine alone. He watched him eat as he finished his meal.

 

He obviously didn’t mind being observed. Q was experienced enough at reading the subtle tells to see that he’d noted his attention. He was quick and efficient, refueling, rather than indulging in the sensory pleasure of eating. No doubt that would be different if he had company. He’d ask him later.

 

 

The program required concentration, so he was using his office when Guillam knocked and entered bearing two coffees and what looked like a cellophane wrapped bag of biscotti, Q noted as he walked towards him.

 

“Afternoon, Q. I took the liberty of providing coffee and biscuits while I pick your brain.” He looked at him in surprise.

 

“What?” He put the takeaway cup of coffee in front of him. It was from the very good Italian deli nearby. He’d obviously done his research. “Thank you.” Guillam smiled, it reached his eyes and Q returned it.

 

“Sorry, didn’t M say? I wanted a chance to talk to you about your methods for handling agents. I understand you are very good.” He raised his eyebrow. “There should be an email from M giving me full clearance, if you want to talk.” He checked his inbox. So there was. Apparently, MI5 were having issues with some of their surveillance methods, he knew that his equivalent was good, but not as good as him and that wasn’t arrogance on his part. It was why he was head of department. M had added an addendum. They wanted to recruit Guillam and Q should try and facilitate this. He hide a wry smile. That wouldn’t be too onerous a task. Obviously the other necessary checks had been done to make sure he was worth it and clean. He’d run his own, of course. He sat back. He’d give him some info, enough to tempt him, but nothing MI5 could use and keep him.

 

“Okay.” He took the coffee. “Just let me finish this section, then we can chat.” Guillam settled back into his chair, his eyes watching him, he was more languorous than Bond, but still as deadly and distracting.

 

 

The next hour was fruitful. He was intelligent and understood most of what Q was telling him and he liked how his mind worked. He was also biddable. Probably more so than James. He knew that he’d be given a mission while he was here, probably the two of them together, god help him.

 

“I’m not stupid and I will never risk an agent’s life, I will listen to you, but I can see more sometimes, so try not to ignore me, unlike someone I could care to mention.” He laughed and looked at the flowers.

 

“Of course. Nice. From an admirer?” He asked innocently.

 

“A pain in the arse.” He grinned. “But he said sorry.” Guillam’s phone rang.

 

“I have to get this, sorry.” He rose to leave. “Can we finish this later?” He looked questioningly at Q. He nodded.

 

“Yes. Drop by later when I’ve finished and we can grab a bite to eat.”

 

“Seven?” Q nodded as he stood up and answered the phone as he left, chucking the empty cartons and wrapper in the bin. Tidy too, Q smiled to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Q was turning off his workstation as he saw Guillam enter from the far corner of the room. He wore an overcoat over his suit. Although it was spring, it was still cool enough to warrant it. He walked into his office and picked up his jacket and bag, slipping his laptop into it before putting over his shoulder. Guillam met him at the door with a smile. “Ready?”

 

“Yes. Fancy Thai?”

 

“Mmm, yes. There’s a good one not far, towards Westminster?”

 

“Sounds good.” Q lead the way out of the building and flagged a taxi, they could have walked, but it wasn’t quite the moment for a romantic stroll.

 

 

The waitress filled their wine glasses and departed.

 

“You were staring in the canteen.”

 

“Do you normally hit on heads of departments?” Guillam had the grace to smile and look slightly embarrassed.

 

“No. Just people I find attractive.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Do you normally stare?”

 

“It’s part of my job to observe.” He sipped his wine. He’d read Guillam’s official file, then hacked MI5 for the unofficial version and the interdepartmental memos regarding the ‘loan’. They would have expected nothing less, since they knew he was here and Q’s skill, but despite that, he met no resistance. He sincerely hoped they’d noticed. The file was as he expected. He was good: cold, ruthless and efficient. Six would benefit from him on board, especially where home and international cooperation overlapped.

 

“And?” Q smiled.

 

“Aren’t we here to talk about work?” He looked into his grey-green eyes. They were striking and fixed on him. Guillam drank some wine, breaking his gaze as he set his glass down carefully.

 

“Of course. You’ve read my files?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“No hitches?”

 

“No.” He smiled.

 

“You are good.”

 

“Yes, I am.” Their starters arrived.

 

“And you are beautiful.” Q looked up. “I stand by my original assessment.” He laughed.

 

“I’ll accept the compliment.”

 

They ate in relative silence. Unsurprisingly, Guillam was adept with chopsticks and knowledgeable about the food. He was savouring it too, unlike at lunch and was attentive when they did talk. Q found himself relaxed, a continuum from their time in the office.

 

After a while, he consciously thought of Bond. He knew it could be the same with him, but there was the layer of tension caused because of him being an agent and someone that Q was responsible for, so this easy banter was disallowed by his conscious mind. He brought himself up short. He was being unfair on him, he needed to give him a proper chance tomorrow. He glanced at Guillam, his head bent as he served up some more rice. He needed to tell him that he would be dining with Bond, but there was no rush and he wasn’t going to commit in any form to either of them in the foreseeable future.

 

They did talk about surveillance again, circumspectly given their location and the fact that Q wasn’t going to reveal all his tricks. He told him so.

 

“I do have methods to make people talk.”

 

“I’m sure.” He looked up at him from lowered lids, suddenly flushed with a bolt of desire. “Can you render them speechless too?” Guillam sipped his wine, eyes glancing down Q’s torso.

 

“I’m very good at a great manner of things.” He leaned closer. “I imagine you are too.” Q’s lips curled slightly.

 

“I’ve had men beg.” Guillam’s face registered faint surprise. “Usually 007, for me to get a fucking move on and get a door open.” He kept his face deadpan for a second as Guillam laughed, then joined in.

 

 

Guillam folded his overcoat over his arm, the night had turned out milder than forecast and they left the restaurant. Q was pleasantly buzzing, but still in control of his emotions. Tempting as it was to allow things to progress further, he had work and then Bond tomorrow night. They walked toward the tube, chatting amicably, but with that slight edge of it’s been a good evening, how are we going to end it? Q glanced at Guillam as they stopped to allow traffic to pass before crossing. He smiled broadly and placed a hand on his back to guide him across the road. Q didn’t mind when it remained there. Guillam stopped at the tube entrance.

 

“I’m going to take a taxi.” Q nodded.

 

“I’ll tube it, it’s as quick and I’m not far. Thanks for dinner, it was entertaining.”

 

“It was, we should do it again.”

 

“Yes, that’d be nice.” Q looked away for a moment. “I’m going for dinner with Bond tomorrow…” A flash of surprise flitted across Guillam’s face. “He’s been wanting to ask for ages, I think you spurred him into action.” Guillam laughed.

 

“Playing hard to get, Q?”

 

“Yes. Though, since you seem to know him, you can understand why.”

 

“True. And my reputation?” Q laughed.

 

“I’ve not had a chance to build up any preconceptions yet and since you don’t work with me, you’ve got a head start.”

 

“Good, I’ll try and take advantage of that.” His smile crinkled his eyes again and Q could feel his resolve flicker.

 

“I’m sure you will.” A crowd of people pushed past and they moved away from the entrance, Q pushing his bag back away from his hip as they moved slightly closer. 

 

“Anyway, I’ve got to go. Night.”

 

“Goodnight, Q.” Guillam pulled him closer with his hand, Q offered no resistance. His lips were soft, ghosting over his. He could smell the wine on his breath and he pressed his lips back in response. They kissed, mouths parting slightly, tongues running lightly over each other, tasting and removing any possibility of chaste excuses. He pulled away and headed down the the steps.


	3. Chapter 3

There were no distractions the following day and work was only at a low to medium level intensity. By mid afternoon, Q was mildly disappointed that neither of them had come to see him. From his gentle infiltration of security, he knew that neither had entered the building, but certainly in Bond’s case, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t there. Going by his file, he wouldn’t put it past Guillam either. He wondered if he’d be given a codename, or if he already had one. It helped with the professional detachment. Essential in their game.

 

His phone beeped a text alert as he bent another paperclip into submission. Details of their meeting, no, date later. He smiled to himself, glaring back at the staff member who caught his expression. She grinned. For god’s sake, they were tech, not agents, but still bloody good at reading body language. At least, they didn’t know details. Yet. Office liaisons were notoriously hard to keep secret, especially here, but most people ignored them, mainly so that they wouldn’t become the source of gossip if the same thing happened to them. However, Q’s lack of love life was an endless source of speculation. They just didn’t know that he was better at covering his tracks. Admittedly, it’d been some time since he’d needed too.

 

Still, four hours to go. He hated waiting and that was what he was doing now. He needed a distraction. He tapped his fingers for a while then rang M. Moneypenny answered.

 

“Sorry, he’s in a meeting. Can I help?”

 

“No, not really.” He was about to hang up, “though you might, actually.”

 

“I’m all ears.”

 

“What’s going on with the agent loan? What’s his remit?” Moneypenny laughed, she knew about his covert task.

 

“Ah, you mean what's really going on? That wasn’t their intention obviously, they wanted to gain from us, but you know M.” Q laughed, he knew it was too good a prize to have ended up in their lap, not to take advantage. “They’ll be off shortly on a medium risk op to get intel. You’ll be able to do the comms, try him out.” She paused, he could almost see the amusement on her face. “If you haven’t already.”

 

“Mind in the gutter as always, dearest. Wishful thinking too? Isn’t he your type?”

 

“An attractive, egotistical, manipulative killer? You know me so well.” She laughed. “We could have one each.” Q grinned, though a ping of jealously hit him. So much for berating Bond.

 

“Eve.” He disconnected and pulled up the latest reports to see if he could figure out their destination. It filled up the remaining time.

 

 

There was a delay on the tube, so he was twenty minutes late and Bond was already seated, as normal, at the back, facing the exits. He was perusing the menu while being totally aware of Q’s approach. He’d chosen a steakhouse in Spitalfields, the trendy location entirely apt for how Q dressed, so Bond had obviously given some thought to his choice of venue and Q noted, dressed accordingly. Q cast an appreciative eye over Bond’s dark jumper and black jeans. Distracting to say the least.

 

“Sorry…” He started, sliding into his seat.

 

“I know.” He said gesturing to his phone. “These apps are really good for travel updates.” His face was deadpan. “I feel like you must when you’re tracking us in the field.” Q laughed.

 

“Damn, I’d underestimated your technical prowess.”

 

“Indeed, my dear Q.” He grinned at him. “Good day at work dear?”

 

“Yes, thank you, dearest. And you?” He fluttered his lashes at him.

 

“Just bedding in our interdepartmental loan.” Q’s face flushed despite himself and jealous rage burned through him.

 

“What?” Bond smirked watching his reaction and said nothing. There was no way, surely?

 

“What do you fancy?” He indicated the menu. Q’s appetite had deserted him and his mouth was dry. Bond wouldn’t be such a bastard would he? He was supposed to be after him. He stopped and looked up from the menu. Bond was calmly studying his. Though he was considering dating them both, was in fact. But he hadn’t fucked them. He watched intently. Git.

 

“So, lots of shooting, close combat and paperwork then?” Bond grinned.

 

“Yup.”

 

“Whose IDs did you use?”

 

“That would be telling.”

 

“Git.”

 

“You wound me, Q.” He returned Q’s scowl with a broad grin. “And to continue our conversation, what was it you were saying about jealousy?” Q continued to glow pinkly. He looked at his menu, suddenly hungry and in need of wine.

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“Tsk. I thought we were going to have a grown up conversation about relationships.” Q looked up and caught the waiter’s attention.

 

“Is that possible with you?” Bond mused on the question.

 

“Not, really, but I never deceive unless it’s for work of course.” They ordered and the waiter took the menus. Bond sat back, regarding Q coolly. “I wouldn’t want to put you in a difficult position at work.” Then he smirked, he really couldn’t help himself. “Unless you wanted me too, of course.” This time Q’s flush was lower and pleasurable.

 

“No, you won’t.”

 

“But outside work is acceptable then?” It appeared that he’d lowered his voice several octaves. Q licked his lips, he seemed to be doing that a lot in Bond’s presence. 

“And when I say difficult, I mean, you might find it hard to form coherent sentences.” Q’s mind was floundering slightly, if he kept this up and he’d only started, he’d be fucking him later. So he spoke without thinking.

 

“I had dinner with him last night.” Bond didn’t miss a beat.

 

“I know, he told me, knew that I was seeing you later.” Q hid his surprise.

 

“Oh. Do you mind?” He shrugged.

 

“Not really, I suppose. You aren’t involved with anyone, so it’s none of my business, is it?”

 

“No.” He watched as the waiter poured the wine and left. “Would it bother you if I saw you both? I say that assuming that you’d like to see me outside work?” Bond looked at him, his blue eyes were intense in the light, pupils wider than the light level warranted.

 

“No, and yes.”

 

“Good. I mean, yes I’d like to see you too. Despite appearances, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you.” Bond grinned.

 

“I know. I appreciate why you’ve been a total arse to me at times, but my reputation isn’t wholly justified. That’s work, not me.”

 

“Isn’t it?”

 

“It’s not my emotional life.” Q bit his lip. Well, he wasn’t expecting that.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m not declaring an undying attachment, I’d just like to know you better, I think there’s enough mutual attraction and we haven’t tried to kill each other yet.” Q relaxed again.

 

“That’s a good start, my personal safety is okay for now then?” Bond nodded.

 

“Of course, my main thought is how very much I want to fuck you.” Q swallowed his wine safely, narrowly avoiding choking. Fortunately, his napkin hid the effects of Bond’s words.

 

“Thank god, I wondered where the real Bond had gone.” He sipped another mouthful, easing his throat. “Similar thoughts had crossed my mind.”

 

They ate their meal.

 

“I knew I wanted to fuck him before I got the memo.” Bond nodded.

 

“No need to sacrifice yourself for Queen and Country then?”

 

“No. What about you? Any means necessary?”

 

“Too emotionally invested in you for that.” Q blinked. “Well, it has been months.”

 

“Are you trying to blindside me?”

 

“No, just saying that he’s all yours.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes, not that he’s unattractive, but he’s got stiff competition.” Q grinned.

 

“It’s purely physical, sort of.”

 

“Stop trying to justify yourself.” He nodded at the waiter. “Can we stop talking for now?”  
Q smiled, god yes, there too much thinking and trying to pre-empt the situation in his head.

 

 

The street was deserted and dusk was nearly complete. The yellow lamp light threw Bond’s face into sharp relief. He ran his thumb along Q’s cheek, the smooth skin merging into a faint rasp of stubble. Bond pushed him gently back into the shadow of the doorway and brought his lips to his. Pleasure coursed through him and he pressed against Bond’s body as the agent’s hands roamed over his back and neck. He kissed, like… Q pulled his head closer, mouths meshed, tongues exploring hungrily. His fingers twisted into Bond’s jumper, pushing his hips closer. Bond broke the kiss, moving to his jaw, then neck, kissing and licking a path to his collar. His fingers loosened the knot and undid the button, mouth not breaking contact with Q’s skin. Q’s eyes were closed, his fingers were under Bond’s jumper, greedily feeling his skin. Then remembered the upcoming op. He sighed and Bond looked at him.

 

“What?”

 

“You’re off soon, probably tomorrow.”

 

“And?”

 

“Well, I…” Bond laughed gently into his shoulder.

 

“You want to wait until I get back?” Q nodded.

 

“Why?”

 

“No idea.”

 

“I could get killed.”

 

“You won’t” Bond kissed him.

 

“Thank you for your faith in me.” Q grinned.

 

“I was thinking more of my exceptional skills at keeping you out of mischief.” Bond’s laugh was deeper and more throaty.

 

“For that, I’m going to make you come.” He pressed him further into the shadow as Q’s eyes widened. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep our clothes on.” His breath was warm on his ear “and I won’t touch you.” Q melted against him as Bond kissed him, hands everywhere as he ground his groin against his cock. His body set up its rhythm as they kissed, Bond fucking his mouth with his tongue, Q’s fingers digging into Bond’s arse. The months of unresolved tension adding to the heat that Q felt.Their cocks were touching and Q moved more urgently, creating friction.

 

“Fuck, Q.” Bond growled into his ear, his hand twisted into his hair, pulling his head up gently. He sucked a bruise above his collarbone and Q moaned.

 

“James, touch me.”

 

“No, I’m respecting your wishes.”

 

“What…” Bond kissed him again and slid a hand lightly down the crease of his arse as Q moved his hand to Bond’s groin. He caught it and held it, thumb circling his palm.

 

“When I get back I’m going to fuck you senseless.” He breathed into his ear. Q let his head fall back to look at him as his body tensed.

 

“James.” His breathing was faster and James’ eyes were… He vaguely felt the pressure of Bond’s hand as he pressed against his cock, tipping him over, them over, as they collapsed against each other.

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Christ, Q” He pressed a lazy kiss against James’ mouth before they stood back in the light. James slid his arm around his waist as they walked to the junction to hail a taxi.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“Of course.” Q kissed him and climbed in, legs still a little shaky.


	4. Chapter 4

Q chewed his toast as he waited for the kettle to boil, musing on his rather unexpected turn of events, two dates with as many people in as many days. The last time that had happened had been at Uni, but he’d dumped one for the other. As for an actual date, it’d been ages. He noticed some flirting at work and on odd times he’d gone out socially, but mostly he was too busy to bother. Once he’d met Bond, though, he’d stopped looking elsewhere. Admittedly, it hadn’t been instantaneous, he’d liked him when they first met, but it hadn’t been until their subsequent meeting when Bond moved, took control of the room, that he was hooked. It took him by surprise, he wasn’t his usual type, and the whole being able to kill with your bare hands thing wasn’t a huge kink for him. Nowadays though, Bond’s persistence and gradual revealing of his true personality along with Q’s desire for him, had turned all of his supposed negative qualities into highly desirable traits for a partner to have.

 

That may have gone some way into explaining why seeing Peter Guillam walk into his department, looking gorgeous and exuding an air of danger and sex, a bolt of desire shot had through him and he knew he wanted him. It being reciprocated had made his day. Of course,at that point, Bond hadn’t made his intentions clear enough, so it was allowable and since he really didn’t know either of them properly, he could hardly be expected to turn one down for the other. The kettle boiled and he made his tea and put some more bread in the toaster. He looked in the fridge, deciding on Marmite this time. Both dates had been enjoyable, Guillam was similar to Bond in his outlook. It obviously went with the territory, as did their flirting. He seemed colder, more indifferent, but he suspected that was part of his façade and frankly at this point, he didn’t care. He was bloody sexy too. Their kiss has been really nice, but he’d held back from responding as he wanted. That would be for the next time. That was, if he was still interested.

 

He buttered his toast and spread a thin layer of Marmite over it, licking the excess butter off his fingers. Dinner with Bond had been different as they were familiar with each other, even so, he was surprised at his easy acceptance of his date with Guillam and that he wanted to continue to do so. He pushed that line of thought away, letting the end of the evening playback instead. Fuck, that was good and they hadn’t even touched. He’d gone over it once he’d gone to bed, several times in fact, but hadn’t brought himself off, that was for the next time he saw him. He finished breakfast, tidied and grabbed his bag and coat, glancing at the time. Shit, he’d barely make it.

 

 

Unlike last night, the tube was on his side and he was on time. Fortunately, as a mild panic was evident on a few of the faces. He raised a quizzical brow.

 

“Hacker.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“Deal with it.”

 

“But…”

 

“You are all capable, or you wouldn’t be here. I can’t be here all the time.”

 

“They’re good, Sir.”

 

“Fine.” He logged on. “Tell me.” He listened as he tracked the movements of the hacker. “Keep doing what you’re doing, I’ll intervene if needed.” He watched as they counter attacked. They were doing well and it was an excellent training exercise, even if they didn’t feel that way at the moment. He figured out a stop and waited to see if anyone would do so. Eventually Tom, one of their brightest, spotted the defence and piped up.

 

“Good. Well done. Implement it.” He took his coat off. “I want a full report and analysis of what happened by tomorrow morning. Tom?”

 

“Yes, Sir?”

 

“I’m making tea, would you like a cup?” The young man grinned.

 

“Yes, please.”

 

He spent the next hour doing admin and looking through his notes on probable mission scenarios. Even if he was wrong on where they were going, he’d pass his notes on to the relevant people, they’d be useful at some point. He stretched and eased his shoulders, suddenly mindful of someone’s presence.

 

 

“Apparently, you need me.” Q looked up to see Guillam’s crinkled grin. He slipped off his jacket, placing it on the back of Q’s chair, before rolling up his shirtsleeves. Q tried not to stare at his forearms and ignored his heart racing lightly at the memory of the previous night. He smiled smoothly and leant back in the chair.

 

“Yes, well, specifically your hands.” Guillam’s grin broadened.

 

“Quartermaster.” He dragged it out with precisely the right edge, his voice positively sinful and it hit Q right in the groin.

 

“Come with me.” He logged off, thankful for the thickness of his cardigan and let R know where he was off to. Guillam followed with a grin.

 

The room with the scanner was small and a mess of organised chaos, various projects were dotted around and secured lockers covered one side. Guillam looked around, expression varying between impressed and bemused as to how any one could work like this. He closed the door as Q unlocked a small locker and removed a box.

 

“A personalised killing machine.” Guillam looked at the contents. “It’ll be coded to your palm print.”

 

“Interesting, I take it James has one.”

 

“Did. It got eaten by a dragon.” Q grinned.

 

“I won’t ask.”

 

“Best not too, I’ve found, though don’t tell him that. It’s the highlight of my day berating him for destroying my equipment.” Guillam laughed.

 

“And his too, no doubt.” He took the gun and examined it. “I do tend to keep mine intact, not that I need many fancy toys, I’m more old school.”

 

“Yes, I think you and Ja… Bond are well suited.” He caught Q’s slip and grinned.

 

“So, my hands…” He put down the gun. “Where do you want them?” Heat flushed through Q and pooled in his groin. He took his right one and placed it on the scanner and started the machine. It was a fairly slow process due to the detail required, but it seemed to pass in seconds as he looked at his hand, fingers slightly longer than his own, delicate seeming for his size, artistic. The scan finished and he swapped them over, his fingers ghosted over the skin, ensuring than his palm was flat. Guillam’s head was bent towards his, he could smell his hair, skin. He saved the data to the small tablet and set it to process. Then he picked up his hand and placed it on his waist.

 

“Here.” He moved his head and found his lips. Guillam pulled him closer. Q moaned into the kiss, his hand stroking up his neck and into Guillam’s hair. He kissed as good as he looked, this time it was deep, hot wet, their mutual hunger prolonging and developing the kiss, bodies pressed together. Q’s hand slid down his back, feeling the hardness of his body beneath the fitted waistcoat. It rested on his hip, cupping the curve. He felt Guillam’s hands under his cardigan, fingers feeling his back, along his waist and then his arse, sliding over the curve as he kissed a path down Q’s neck. Q responded with a thrust of his hips, pushing him against the door. He looked up, his eyes were dark, lips even fuller and wet, inviting. He touched them with his fingers, watching as Guillam licked them, then brought them into his mouth, sucking them gently, eyes not leaving Q’s face. Q stared, lips parted, his cock hardening against Guillam’s groin.

 

“My flat’s five minutes from here.” Q blinked at his words. “Tempting as it is to fuck you here, I’d like to spend a little more time exploring you first.” He said with a grin. Now that was a tempting proposition. Q looked at his watch.

 

“Well, it is lunch time, I could do with a spot of fresh air.” He stepped back and straightened his clothes and hair. So much for waiting. “Let me just program the Walther and check it.” Guillam stood behind him as he did so, hands on his waist and nuzzling his neck. “That’s not helping.”

 

“Shall I stop?”

 

“No.”


	5. Chapter 5

Ten minutes later he was pressing the bell to Guillam’s flat. It was on the top floor of an impressive and expensive row of London real estate. Even with their salaries, Q mused, Guillam would have had to have bought it some time ago to be able to afford it. Inherited? He wondered. He was buzzed in promptly and he took the stairs two at a time, it was a bit late to be appearing less than eager. He’d briefly considered that he’d wanted Bond first, shouldn’t that be exclusively? He shrugged that off. Guillam was the first person he’d had such a visceral, immediate response to in so long, that any other considerations went out the window.

 

The door opened as he reached it, a barefoot Guillam stepped back with a warm smile, unbuttoning the last of his shirt buttons as he tugged it out of his waistband. Q caught a glimpse of his bare chest before he turned and walked into one of the rooms. Q grinned and shut the door, tugging his cardigan over his head before kicking off his shoes and pulling his socks off and following him.

 

Guillam pulled him towards him, kissing him hard. He reciprocated, mouth open and needy, body pressing into him. He was almost overwhelmed with desire. His mouth licked and sucked at the other man’s, longing pouring from him. He didn’t care if Guillam found it too much, he wanted him badly, wanted him to possess him. His hands pulled off his shirt, fingers exploring his skin, his hard, lean muscles, his nipples erect in the cool air of the flat. He rubbed one between his fingers, eliciting a small moan and a thrust against him. His other hand followed the curve of his spine, palm smoothing over the wool of his trousers, the curve of his arse, fingers pressing into the cleft, stroking, sliding between his legs, pulling his hips closer. Guillam’s mouth traced Q’s jaw, neck, fingers deftly releasing his tie, buttons, as he kissed and licked his way down his chest, teeth teasing his nipples, his hands undoing his trousers, letting them slide to the floor as he knelt, tongue tracing a path down his abdomen, breath warm against his skin. His mouth closed on Q’s cock, breath moistening the fabric of his shorts.

 

“Fuck.” Was all he could manage. It’d been so long. He felt slender fingers trace his length, sliding under his balls, cupping them momentarily before moving between his legs, stroking him through the fabric. He looked down and met his eyes, they looked darker, lust blown, Guillam smiled slightly and pulled his shorts down, his mouth trapping his cock as it was freed. He thrust against him as his tongue moved around his cock, languorous, skilled and bringing Q close to the edge. At this, he stopped and stood, resuming his kisses, his tongue tasting him as Q pressed against his hip, fingers undoing his trousers, finding his cock, stroking the silky hardness, thumb grazing the slit, moist already. He raised his hand and licked it, tasting the sharp tang, wanting more. Guillam’s breathing was heavier, lips flushed.

 

“What would you like?” His voice was deeper, Q could feel his reaction in his groin, it intensified as Guillam’s thumb stroked his lip. He licked the tip with his tongue, inviting his other fingers into his mouth, sucking at them, they were becoming an obsession with him, he’d watched them move as he talked, as he’d picked up the gun and checked it. He touched his wet fingers.

 

“I want your fingers inside me, then when you’ve finished fucking me with them…” He didn’t finish as Guillam pushed him onto the bed, pulling off the remains of their clothing, grabbing the bottle of lube and a condom that he’d left on the bedside table. Q grinned broadly as he straddled his thigh. God, he was beautiful, his body was lean and muscular, as pale as he was. His cock was gorgeous, slightly thicker than he expected, but maybe Guillam was thinking the same of him, his tongue was certainly showing his appreciation. He arched his hips towards his mouth as he felt the cool slick of the lube against his skin, the delicate stokes around his entrance, before one finger slid in, deftly working him open. He brought Guillam’s head back up, his tongue mimicking the action of his fingers. His hand found the condom and opened it, rolling on Guillam’s cock and coating it with lube, his fingers stroking the shaft as he pushed against his palm. Q thrust against his fingers, wanting more, they were filling him, finding his prostate, fucking him as Guillam fucked his hand.

 

“Fuck me, Peter.” He managed. He lifted his head.

 

“I thought I was.” He grinned broadly, kissing into Q’s laugh, replacing his fingers with his cock. Q let out a noise as he thrust, penetrating him completely.

 

“Fu.. oh.. god, yes.” They moved together, Q’s fingers digging into his arse, pulling him deeper. They were still wet with lube, so he slid them down his crease, feathering over his hole, teasing, sliding in as Peter groaned.

 

“God, yes Q.” He thrust with his fingers, opening him up as Peter filled him, his legs wrapped around his hips. Peter raised himself onto his arms, moving deeper. Their eyes locked, watching each other. He felt no discomfort as he had in the past at being observed taking his pleasure, he wanted him to see. Peter’s fingers traced along his cock, barely giving him any friction, hesitating a fraction.

 

“I want you to fuck me.” He looked unsure. Q’s cock jumped at his words.

 

“Yes.” He stroked his chest. “I don’t have any real preference.” Peter withdrew, disposing of the condom, grabbing another for Q.

 

“Thank Christ for that.” He pulled him onto him, kissing him hard, guiding his cock. “Now. Just do it.” Q pushed gently against the slight resistance. It had been so long since he’d been inside another man. He felt so good, hot and tight and he was already so close. Peter pushed against him, moving urgently, there was no finesse now, he felt his body take over, thrusting hardly, faster as Peter moved under him, his hands digging into his arse, lips on his neck, sucking his skin as Q groaned, sensations peaking, he sucked on Peter’s shoulder, teeth nipping the skin as the orgasm ripped through him. His body spasmed and he could feel the rhythmic clench of Peter’s muscles around his cock as he came too, the hot spurt of liquid across his abdomen and over his hand he realised was holding Peter’s cock. He sank down on his chest, lips meeting his, kissing gently as their breathing slowed. Peter’s hand nestled in his hair as they parted slightly, arms around it each other, recovering.

 

Eventually, he rolled onto his back and Peter leant up on his arm, looking at him, finger tracing through the stickiness of his abdomen.

 

“I suppose I should ensure that my quartermaster is presentable.” Q pulled him down and kissed him.

 

“Mmm, that’s probably a good idea.” He rolled out of bed and followed Peter into the bathroom. There were several marks over his chest and neck, fortunately below the collar, he glanced at Peter, he was similarly marked.

 

“Next time they might be more obvious.” Peter grinned at him, before sucking gently at the base of his neck. Q could feel arousal again, at his touch and at his words. He definitely wanted a repeat. “Discretion first time round, in case of regrets.”

 

“Do you have any?” He doubted that was the case, certainly not by the way his hands were stroking him.

 

“None at all.” He watched Q in the mirror, not having to ask. He turned him round and kissed him. “Lunch?” He checked the time on his watch. “I can rustle up a quick sandwich, maintain your alibi.”

 

They dressed quickly and Q followed him into his kitchen, filling some glasses with water as Peter made the sandwiches. They ate standing, hips touching, the silence comfortable before walking back together. 

 

“Do I get to kiss you again, before we get back?” They’d stopped to cross the road nearby. Q looked at him and slid his arm around his waist.

 

“Of course.” His mouth was warm and he stopped reluctantly, eventually. They parted and walked back to Q branch grinning broadly.


	6. Chapter 6

There was a slight post lunch stupor in the department, most of the staff were back by now and a quiet buzz of chat tailed off as their boss returned. He didn’t mind the chat and they knew that, it would resume in random snatches throughout the afternoon as people paused to stretch. He didn’t give a damn as long as they worked hard when they needed to, which they did, so much so, that he often had to tell them to take breaks, something they did to him too, he’d resented it at first, then accepted it, burnout helped no one. This time he could sense a little whisper of comments as he returned. They were both looking and acting like fellow professionals, but he knew they were trying to read more into the situation than it warranted. He caught a few glances, surreptitiously checking them out. Of course Peter was a novelty, so there was that and a damned attractive one too. Their arrival back together, after Q had actually gone out for lunch, was going to provide some measure of gossip for the foreseeable future.

 

He sat in his chair and logged on to check for anything requiring his attention. Peter had come back with him as he was somewhat at a loose end until he was assigned. He could have sent him elsewhere, but he really didn’t want to.

 

Peter sank into the chair opposite, legs outstretched, glancing around the department. Q knew he hadn’t paid much note to it before, his attention had been rather focused on himself. He watched him with his peripheral vision as he looked around. He caught the attention of one of the staff and smiled broadly, charmingly at her, causing her to blush and turn back to her work. He did the same with a few others, before turning back to the desk. That would help dampen speculation, thought Q before Peter looked at him. Thankfully, none of the others could see his face. Q leaned forward slightly.

 

“Stop that.” He said quietly.

 

“What?” Peter grinned.

 

“That look.” He looked back at his messages, nothing too urgent, he typed out a few replies and read a detailed memo on procurement. Tedious and overburdened with words, but if he didn’t comply, he’d have no new supplies. He logged out and turned his attention to a small pile of folders that had appeared on his desk, sadly some things still needed paper copies. He opened the first, that didn’t, he noted as he saw the signature, some departments were still using pen and ink. He pursed his lips and read, annotating where necessary, conscious of Peter’s gaze on him. He was as bad as Bond, still, intense and radiating sex. He chewed the end of his pen absently, trying not to think them fucking and failing. It was worse than having Bond here, since he’d he had the experience of his body to back up his imagination. He finished the first report, glancing at his notes. No Freudian slips he noted as he signed it and put it into his out pile.

 

“I’ll just see if I’ve got that info you wanted.” He said in his normal voice for the benefit of anyone listening and stood. “It’ll be in my office.”

 

He closed the door behind him, leaning against it, looking at Peter, who stepped closer, placing his hands on the door on either side of him.

 

“Really, Q. Luring me into your office under false pretenses?” His grin broadened. Q pulled him closer, smirking.

 

“You’re free to leave.” He kissed him, mouth open. Peter responded and pushed against him, hands holding his face, kissing him deeply, their lips and tongues meshing, exploring each other wetly. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding tight as they kissed for several moments before coming up for air.

 

“Thank you for lunch.” Q’s tongue licked Peter’s lips as he spoke.

 

“Thank you for coming.” He smirked.

 

“That’s terrible.” They laughed.

 

“I know.” Peter kissed him again. “Seriously, though, it was really good.”

 

“Good?” Q grinned.

 

“Fucking amazing, you ass.” He sucked at Q’s lip. He was hard again and wanted him.

 

“It was. And you’re beautiful.” He ran his hands over Peter’s torso. “Really fucking gorgeous.”

 

“So are you.” His hands slid down Q’s chest to his hips, thumbs rubbing his skin. Q kissed him again as he spoke.

 

“Mmm, so it’s going to be a mutual appreciation society?”

 

“Yes.” He nipped at his lip. “And by the way, I can’t keep my hands off you.” They’d moved to his cock, his palm flat against it. Q pushed against it.

 

“Peter…” He’d only wanted to kiss him when he’d brought him to his office, he was probably still in a post coital feel good haze when he’d got back, but now he wanted him again and Peter wasn’t helping the situation. His hands roamed over his body, their lunchtime encounter had been far too short in his opinion. “I know what you mean.” Peter grinned.

 

“Would you have any objections to me sucking you off?” Q’s body responded with his cock jerking into Peter’s hand. “Obviously not.” He kissed him again as he undid his trousers, before kneeling down. He freed Q’s cock from his shorts and took it in his mouth. Q had to forcibly stop himself from sinking to the floor. He was good, very good. He looked at his incredible mouth around his cock, he could come from that sight alone, then he started using his fingers.

 

“Fuck, Peter, do you know how good you look?” He groaned as his tongue did something. “And feel.” He was thrusting his hips now, close to coming. The office was silent apart from the sound of his breath, becoming louder and the soft moans from Peter as he sucked his cock, so when his phone rang, it startled them both. Q breathed deeply, grabbing it from his trouser pocket. Peter paused briefly. He looked at the name.

 

“Moneypenny?” Peter grinned and resumed, causing his breath to catch.

 

“M would like to see you for the mission briefing.”

 

“Okay.” He breathed, trying to stop Peter, who laughed. “When?”

 

“Ten minutes.” Hs fingers were moving faster and Q moaned. “Are you okay?”

 

“Y, yes.” He swore under his breath. “Just banged my elbow. See you then.” She hummed suspiciously. “Can you tell Guillam too? I believe he’s lurking down there.”

 

“He is.” He looked into his eyes, filled with as much want as his. “He’s with me, I’ll let him know.” He closed his eyes as his body tensed and switched off his phone. Peter paused, removing his cock from his mouth.

 

“I want you. I want to taste you.” His lips encircled his cock again and he came, hand gripping his hair, holding him close as his hips jerked, pleasure ripping through him. He felt Peter swallow, lick him clean, his hands stroking his hips and abdomen. Eventually he stood, flushed, Q pulled him to him, kissing him, tasting himself, his hand loosened Peter’s trousers, then found his cock, hard and leaking, he stroked it lightly as Peter thrust against him. It wouldn’t take much to bring him off. Peter bit against his lip as his hand moved faster, roughly, over his cock. Q licked into his mouth, wanting to possess him.

 

“I need to fuck you.” He whispered and Peter came, hot come spilling into his fist.

 

“Q, fucking hell…” He fell back against the door as Q felt the pulse from his cock subside, before letting go and licking his hand clean. Peter watched through lidded eyes, then kissed him and Q leaned in, sated for now.

 

“Damn, it Peter.”

 

“What?” he asked with amused eyes.

 

“I think I’m definitely in lust with you.” He grinned.

 

“That’s a relief, I was worried that it was only me.” He stroked Q’s face.

 

“No, it’s not.” He kissed him lightly. ‘We’d better get going though.”

 

He stood back and looked down at him, fortunately, he’d contained most of the mess. Peter wiped Q’s hand with the tail of his shirt, before tucking it back in. Q pulled his clothes back straight and zipped up, running a hand through his hair.

 

“How do I look?”

 

“Gorgeous and like you been thoroughly fucked.”

 

“Excellent, so do you.” He smoothed Peter’s hair, he didn’t look too bad, he’d escape casual scrutiny, hopefully, the slight flush and swollen lips would be gone by the time they got to M’s office. He knew his lips would be rather more obvious. He found that he wasn’t that bothered.


	7. Chapter 7

Actually, that was a lie when it came down to reality, he didn’t really want his staff knowing, especially given the timescale and the fact that he was at work. So, despite feeling particularly self conscious, they managed to walk out of the department without much attention being paid to them. The thought of their quartermaster behaving in a wholly unprofessional manner in his office with a visiting agent, was apparently still off their radar. Peter smirked at Q as they walked along the corridor after their rapid progress through the area, but he waited until they were walking up the stairwell before saying anything.

 

“So, James…” Q paused on the top step and looked back at him. The height difference gone temporarily. Yes, James, who they were about to see. Peter looked hesitant for a moment. “It’s fine, really. I mean, I don’t want to come between you.” He looked away, eyes focused on the pale grey wall. “I know James cares, I mean, likes you a lot, and you...” He stopped and looked back and smiled. “So, I’m happy to let you take the lead for how this goes.” Q stood still, waiting. He raised his hand and stroked Q’s cheek. “This is a rather delightful, if unexpected, turn of events.” Q lips twitched into a small smile. At first he thought that Peter was going to ask for exclusivity, which was going too fast for what they’d had so far, namely fantastic sex with the possibility of an emotional attachment. His perception of events put Q’s mind back on an even keel and his acceptance of James’ feelings and Q’s reciprocated ones, which of course Peter could see, pushed him up a notch in Q’s regard.

 

“You don’t mind sharing?” Peter grinned.

 

“If I must.” His hand trailed down Q’s chest. “I don’t think I’d want to throw away a chance…” his grin was positively sinful, “… to have you.” Q licked his lips and breathed, they didn’t have the time for this sort of conversation. He kept his tone light.

 

“Can we talk when you’re back? Mustn’t keep M waiting.”

 

“Of course.” He stepped up beside him. “I only mentioned it now so that you weren’t going to feel uncomfortable with James, I don’t want you to feel that you can’t see him because of what happened.” He smiled and held the door open for him.

 

 

M was talking to Bond when they entered, three files carefully placed in front of him, Bond seated with his back to them. Two vacant chairs to the side of him. He allowed the two agents to sit beside each other and he took the third. That way he could look at all three of them. Bond’s head turned slightly, cool eyes acknowledging their presence, flickering over them, passing no judgement, continuing their conversation, his agent’s body ready for deployment. Q opened the file on his tablet, Peter sat ramrod straight, but relaxed, waiting for instruction.

 

He wondered how he’d feel, seeing James after he’d fucked Peter. He’d expected that there would be some time elapsed before the two events took place, not just moments since Peter had had Q’s cock in his mouth. It wasn’t uncomfortable however, 007 was in the room, not James. He’d switched too. M looked up.

 

“So…”

 

“Marseille?” Q speculated. M looked surprised.

 

“Yes. How did you..?” Q grinned and waved his hand dismissively.

 

“I was bored, Moneypenny said they’d be off soon, so I took a few wild guesses.” M raised his brows in a, I suppose I should have expected this manner. “I’ve made some observations on other possible hotspots too. I’ll pass that on to the relevant sections.” M nodded. He was aware of the two agents looking at him and glanced over. Bond looked fractionally unsurprised.

 

“Yes, nothing too exciting as far as you’re concerned double-0.” M’s smile was thin and boded no discussion. “One of the better Customs officers was doing a routine stop and check. He found a large quantity of drugs, very well hidden and unexpected. They usually know if large consignments are coming through and can track them. This was new, as I said he was good, so he gave no indication of having seen anything amiss and let them through.” Bond raised his brows. “After placing a very discreet tracker.” Q smiled to himself, he’d checked out the man, he was very good, worth recruiting if he fancied the change, he could tell M thought so too. 

“Anyway, they found all sorts of lovely new intel as a result and Customs and MI5 have several people under observation in the UK.” Peter interrupted.

 

“And we’re interested because?”

 

“The income from the drugs coming in to the UK is funding several terror cells and there are no electronic traces. I can imagine Q is less than delighted.” He smiled thinly at him. “So it’s an old fashioned get in, record the info and get out without leaving any trace.” He looked pointedly at Bond. Q regarded Guillam, cross border co-operation in action.

 

“What a co-incidence having you here.” Q smiled at him.

 

“Mmm, isn’t it? I rather like filing.” Bond sighed in quiet amusement.

 

“If you’re very good, and it’s necessary, I’ll let you blow things up once we’ve intel we can use to halt the network.” M smiled smoothly at him. “Since Q has a handle on it, I’ll let the three of you get acquainted with the intricacies.” He nodded in dismissal. They collected a file each, Q was about to leave when he had a thought.

 

“What’s his designation?” M frowned, then realised what he meant.

 

“Umm, no idea.” Q sighed.

 

“I can hardly use his name in comms.” M glanced around, seeking inspiration, Q knew he could hardly give him double - 0 status… yet. He glanced at his mug, inspiration striking.

 

“What’s that mug of yours? You know, with the Q?”

 

“My scrabble one?” M nodded. “Ten points for the letter Q? Bit of a mouthful.” He heard Guillam’s muffled snort. M rolled his eyes.

 

“Ten.” He dismissed them with a look.

 

They took the lift down to his workshop, Q glancing through the file. It was more or less as he had planned. He leant back against the wall pleased at the mission they’d been given, comparatively low risk, mainly observation on his part and short. They stood impassively in front of him, heat radiating from them both. This was going to be interesting.

 

He opened the room and they crowded in. He stood in the doorway a moment as they turned and looked at him. They both dominated the space, not so much physically, although there was that too, as, radiating such self possession, heat and expectation. Q swallowed and closed the door.

 

“There’s not much I need to equip you with as it’s low key.” He sent a text to see if their documentation was ready yet. The reply beeped back, another hour with their flight leaving in three. “You can have a gun, which will not the carried on your persons while retrieving the intel, a radio and a phone which you will use to copy all the paperwork. It’ll upload straight to our analysts.”

 

“Does it really require both of us?” Bond quirked his mouth.

 

“Yes, to provide distraction, to get through the info gathering in the time you’ve got and to babysit Guillam.” He wanted to say Peter, Bond’s blink acknowledging that. They both snorted at his words, but they all knew it was true. He got out the radios and phone and a small aerosol that looked like breath freshener.

 

“And I’m there to stop you killing everyone.” Guillam grinned kindly at him. They both knew that Bond’s reputation for destruction wasn’t wholly true, he was stealth personified when necessary, drawing attention to themselves wasn’t good for international relations. Q took out Guillam’s newly personalised Walther, his skin flushing as he remembered. He slid his hand over the grip, ostensibly to check it, he signed it out and placed it in Guillam’s hand.

 

“Why don’t you go and test fire it while I get Bond a new one sorted out, pick up some ammo too.” His hand was still on the gun as he spoke. Peter’s fingers slid over his palm as he took it.

 

“Thanks. I’ll see you back in the office for the full brief.” He smiled into his eyes and left. He could feel James watching, he felt the prickle of his hair on his neck, but no feeling of unease. He turned slowly and looked at him, they were close, the air electric.

 

“How was lunch?” James shifted his weight and they were closer. Q looked questioningly at him. “I saw you both returning on my way in.” There were obviously various points at which they could have been observed, he went with the most explicit, as that was the most likely one to make this conversation difficult. He knew though, that even the most innocuous observation would have told James everything.

 

“Very satisfying.” He held his gaze, his chin tilting a little, their lips closer. His hips pressed forward slightly, but they kept a space. He was vaguely surprised to find that he still wanted him, as much, if not more, than before. After being with Peter, he did wonder if things would have changed between them. Obviously not. James placed his fingers on the edge of his collar, straightening it, and his tie, the tips ghosting along his skin, pausing on a purplish mark that was just beneath the cotton. He knew he had done so, as he felt a slight sting from the slight pressure. He left it and straightened his cardigan, pulling it over his hips, then down at the back, his hands sliding onto his thighs. Q held his gaze, lips soft, breathing into his mouth. He sighed at his touch.

 

“It was nice to go out for lunch, we should do it when you’re back.”

 

“I’d like that.” 

 

“I like the variation.” He leant forward, their bodies touched. James didn’t retreat. Q licked into his mouth, lips brushing against his. He felt James’ reticence ebb as he returned the kiss, mouth open, hot and demanding. Q wanted more, but he pulled away. He ran his hand over James’ chest.

 

“Just make sure you return the equipment intact.”


	8. Chapter 8

He watched the two men as they stood and lit their cigarettes, pausing for a moment in the brilliant spring sunshine. There was no audio, but they were looking unconcerned, smiling occasionally as they kicked their heels, waiting. Their clothes made Q’s skin itch in sympathy, more suited to a golf course, than day to day living. He wondered how anyone would consciously choose to wear them. They were definitely slacks, beige too and topped with a pale pink polo shirt in Bond’s case and an apricot, well blouse, would be being kind, for Guillam. They clashed delightfully. Q tried to lip read, but they were keeping their heads down and their comms were off at the moment. Both were in mission mode of course, heads casually sweeping the area as they talked, but their body language was relaxed and they were now grinning at each other. They raised their heads and Q could see, as he no doubt was meant too, that they were perfectly relaxed in each other’s company. That was a relief, he didn’t want to have to explain why one of the agents had taken the other one out.

 

The briefing had gone well, they liked the simplicity of the plan, the promise of more visceral action if this went well was deemed suitable reward. Q gave Guillam the aerosol, as he was more likely to be able to get closest without alarming the guard. It would knock him out and leave no memory or awareness of having been unconscious. Him being dead or injured was not going to be an option. They left the evening before to slip into their covers as two rather naive business men, Guillam having ideas about getting into ornate glassware. They were going to be picking up a sample. It was worth seeing their faces for that alone. Q had laughed silently, guiltlessly, as he bore no responsibility for their cover story.

 

On time, they stubbed out their cigarettes and started walking casually to their objective, past the row of identical white industrial offices that were blinding in the early morning sun. He continued to scan the area. The section with the containers was relatively quiet, he’d already checked out the staff working and moving them and they all matched their records. He switched cameras as they turned the corner and walked down the bare, monotonous length of the end unit, before turning left again to their objective.

 

On their right, the sea was deep blue and calm and the pale, wide stretch of road was deserted. In theory, this was an easy mission, enter, get data, exit. The slight issue being that there was no hiding places for unobserved access, there was always a security guard in the office and there was only one way in. They needed to get the intel and leave no trace otherwise, it would be for nothing as all known contacts would be alerted and they would disappear or be eliminated, rendering the intel useless. The further complication, as M had pointed out, was that the man who ran this little op was paranoid about electronic snooping, so everything was on paper, handwritten or typed and they used actual couriers to relay sensitive info from him to the main contacts through a rather circuitous route. Q had to admire the man’s paranoia, it certainly made it harder for him. He felt a slight wistful tug for the nostalgia he got when he read or watched old cold war stuff.

 

He brought up the office CCTV and checked the loop he’d recorded as they’d been smoking, stopping it as they approached. The changes in sunlight would be minimal and wouldn’t show on the loop he’d make to cover their time inside. They were talking loudly now and he could hear them through the mic. They were speaking English and telling terrible jokes. Bond stopped short of the security guard’s window and pulled out a piece of paper and looked at it.

 

“Twelve?” He looked at the doorframe which showed seventeen. He saw them look at each other in slight confusion. Q could see the guard look at them suspiciously. Bond approached with a grin and began asking him for directions in an appalling mix of english and french, shouting loudly as the man failed to understand. Q barely repressed a laugh. Guillam stepped in to help, adding woeful spanish in to the mix. Most of Q branch was sniggering by now. Then Guillam took the paper to show the man, who opened the window. He slumped onto his desk as the spray from the small aerosol in Guillam’s hand had its effect.

 

“You’ve twenty minutes. Clear to enter.” Q switched to their personal comms and started work on fixing the loop for the exterior of the building. He switched the interior loop on into the camera feed. They walked into the small hall and tried the handle, locked, as expected. Bond got he key from the guard, opened it and left it in the door.

 

“Filing cabinet on left, please Ten and desk to start, double 0.” He watched them methodically work through the papers, there were masses, but they were thorough and knew what would be required. They photographed and refiled methodically. Q watched them and the exterior. The clocked counted down.

 

“Five minutes.” Guillam finished the file in his hand, did a quick survey for anything else useful and shut the cabinet. Bond checked the placement on the desk and closed the drawers.

 

“That’s as it was. Lock up.” They did and Bond returned the keys. “Clear to exit.” They walked out and stood where they had previously, Q checking their positions. He moved them slightly, then embedded the loop into the feed, allowing them to move. Seamless.

 

“Well done. Finish up.” The guard shook his head as they carried on talking to him, he wouldn’t know that he’d been out, he’d feel a little muzzy, but since the men in front of him had made no reaction, he wouldn’t be sure if anything had actually occurred. He watched him read the address and shake his head, pointing back where they had come from. With loud cries of ‘merci’, they retraced their steps and picked up the package they had come to collect.

 

They walked slowly back and were almost past the end of the containers to the car park and Q was about to disconnect, when he noticed a group of men hanging around.

 

“Trouble?” Bond glanced over casually. They started to walk towards them, grinning. “Act normal.” They carried on walking. Q saw two of the men scoot round the last container to cut them off. “You’re going to be mugged, act like a normal human being and give them your wallet.” He bit his lip. They had no choice, it could be for real, or a way of checking who was hanging about. The men had the two agents boxed in and they looked suitably nervous. One of the men started talking, asking for their wallets, making hand gestures to indicate what they wanted. They slid them out of their trousers and chucked them to him. He grinned and grabbed the package that Guillam was holding.

 

“Hey, stop.” He put an ineffectual fight as the man grabbed it, he was pushed from behind and fell on his hands and knees, the package going flying. The glassware inside shattering. “My design.” He shouted. The man laughed and kicked at his head before they ran off. Guillam sat up, dusting himself off, letting Bond check his head. “I’m fine.” They walked back to the car.

 

The rest of the morning was spent reporting their mugging to the police, before driving out of the port to their next destination on their trip. Or rather two local agents did, after exchanging clothes and cars at a service station. Bond and Guillam took the next flight home.


	9. Chapter 9

Q had cleared his desk and all previously ignored memos, emails and various other trivia that made up the more mundane aspects of being department head, had been dealt with and they still hadn’t appeared. They’d arrived back in the country a few hours ago, with no injuries necessitating a trip to Medical and he knew the debrief wouldn’t take long, and there was still no sign. He looked at the time. Okay, only five minutes had elapsed since he’d last done so. He sighed and read through at one of the projects he’d been working on. Their intel had been entered electronically and was being analysed. A few very discreet surveillances had been already been mounted based on the initial data, but it was all low key until proper inferences had been drawn. There had been no unusual activity back at the target’s office, it seemed that their op had gone undetected. They had until Monday morning, at the minimum, when Chanier was due back in the office and there was the very slight chance that he might notice something, otherwise, they could afford the luxury of a deep and well co-ordinated counterattack, some of which would require long term undercover work from the various European authorities . At the very least, they could have a quick and dirty take down of the few of the cells they’d uncovered.

 

He glanced around, stretching his neck. It was still early on Saturday evening, the relatively few staff on for the night were busy, most covering operatives in different time zones or picking up any threads from the day, paying no heed to their boss, who by rights should have gone. He placed his arms on the desk and stretched his back before letting his head sink down and closed his eyes. They were dry from staring at the screen, he blinked them a few times and looked up over his arms, not yet raising his head. A movement caught his eye, he turned his head slightly and watched the two agents cross the floor. Their movements were controlled, economical, with an air of deadly menace. There was almost a palpable air of testosterone as they passed. He grinned. Fucking show offs, there was hardly much of an audience either. MI6 and MI5’s finest and snorted quietly to himself. He thought about his remit. Could the department seriously bear to have the two of them together? They seemed quite happy to play up their roles too, they’d have the techs quaking or swooning, probably both. As for him? Bond looked at directly at him once they’d passed the last staff member. He felt the heat shoot down his stomach, directly into his cock. He was glad his face was partially hidden as he returned his gaze, after first glancing around to see that nobody was paying any attention. He looked at Peter, his expression was as bad. His mind ran with the thought of having them both, now, in his office. He bit back a moan as he pushed that away, then sat up and smiled, swinging his chair round towards them. His pose was casual, relaxed and open, only the tenting of his trousers betrayed his reaction. He didn’t bother to hide it.

 

“Gentlemen.” He nodded to them both. Bond’s eyes trailed over his body. The term ‘mentally undressing’ was made for his expression. It stopped on his groin.

 

“Nice to have a warm welcome for a change, quartermaster.” His smile was filthy.

 

“The mission went well and everything is back intact.” He slid off his chair. “Well, only a minor scrape.” He stepped over to Peter, who was watching with a faint smile, eyes moving from his groin to his face. He brushed his thick hair from his forehead to examine the blue-purple bruise. He knew haematomas on boney areas always looked worse, as there was no muscle to hide the bruising, the blood simply pooled under the tight flesh that stretched over the bone.

 

“Okay?” Peter nodded as Q’s fingers brushed lightly over the unaffected skin, then down his face.

 

“I pulled back from the blow.” He held his gaze, lips parted as Q stroked his skin, before taking his hands and turning them palm up. He stroked the grazed flesh with his thumbs.

 

“Good.” He held them, hidden from the room by James’ body.

 

“I’ve got a bottle of medicinal whisky to keep me company.” He smiled, lips quirking to one side. “As James is having the pleasure of your company tonight.” Q grinned, they were close, he could feel the warmth of his breath on his lips. “How about a late lunch, early dinner tomorrow? I’ll cook.” Their smiles broadened, lips fractionally closer.

 

“Sounds great.” He wanted to kiss him. “Text me later tomorrow.” Peter caught his wrists lightly as his thumbs continued to stroke his palms.

 

“I will.”

 

“Have a good evening.” Q kissed him, deepening it fractionally, then pulling away. Peter stroked his cheek, then turned, patting James on the shoulder as he passed.

 

“Night, James.”

 

“Night, Peter, see you Monday.” Q’s face flushed.

 

“Pe… Guillam, your tech.” He turned back with a grin.

 

“Sorry, rather distracted.” Peter’s hand slid into his jacket and handed over his gun, followed by his phone, earpiece and the aerosol.

 

“Thank you.” Q placed them on his desk, then left.

 

“Bond.” He nodded at him, indicating for him to do the same, making the gun safe as he did so. He put them in the secure drawer of his desk, they’d be fine until he could return them to storage on Monday. Actually, unless someone wanted to club someone with them, they’d be safe left out in full view. He shrugged on his parka and picked up his bag.

 

“In a hurry, Q?” James moved into his personal space. He just looked at him, biting back a sarcastic remark. James got the message.

 

They arrived at James’ flat in record time, even for him. The Aston was divine, but the short journey hardly gave him time to appreciate it, he’d save that for another time. He’d watched James drive though, leaning back in his seat, not taking his eyes off him, his assured handling of the car making him even harder. They didn’t speak or touch until they were inside his flat. He lifted his bag off his shoulder and hung it up. He sank against the wall, pulling James to him. His body uncoiled and pressed into him, a hot wave of desire burning down his centre. Their kiss was deep and bruising, tongues penetrating each other’s mouths. James’s hands buried in his hair, pulling his head back, exposing his throat allowing him to kiss and suck at it. He felt James’ hand on his cock, he rubbed against it, breath fast already, small sounds escaping from his mouth.

 

“James, fuck, yes.” He looked at him, eyes dark. “Fuck me, here, now.” He dug into his coat pocket, finding the lube he taken with him and gave it to him. James smiled, undoing his trousers deftly, pulling them and his shorts down to his hips as he undid James’ zip, pulling his cock out through the fabric. He wanted to explore him, take his time, but first, he just needed to come, all the months of anticipation would make their first time too intense for prolonged foreplay. James slicked his fingers, kissing him as they entered him, he didn’t need or want much preparation, he pushed against them, encouraging more.

 

“Fuck, Q, god, I…” Q sucked on his lip, cutting off his words.

 

“Now.” He breathed. “As you are.” James moaned into his mouth.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes, are you?”

 

“Totally.” James kissed him softly, asserting his trust, before he slid his fingers out and slicked up his cock. Q looked at him, barely able to focus, then turned and braced against the wall. He felt James lift his thick parka out of the way, the brush of wool of his trousers, the cool metal of his zip, pressing his flesh and the tight burning as he penetrated him. He breathed, relaxing as James waited, then eased back onto him as Bond thrust in.

 

“Oh, fuck, yes, that’s good, so good.” James thrust harder, faster as he matched him, his hand finding his cock, holding it, allowing him to fuck into his fist. His mind focused, muscles tensing as he came hard, feeling James deep in him, coming as violently, slamming his hips into him, matching his arrhythmic shudders. He caught his breath and James slid out of him, he felt bereft, but he swung him round, kissing him, mouthing him, one hand on his nape, the other stroking his still hard cock, then sliding is fingers back inside, teasing out more pleasure, his come providing more lubrication. He stroked his prostate as he let his head fall back onto the wall, closing his eyes.

 

“Bedroom.” James’ voice was hoarse. He pulled out and they stumbled down the hall, Q tugging at his tie. He was pushed onto the bed, trousers and shorts pulled off. James pulled off his jacket and straddled him. Christ, he was still fully clothed.

 

“Get naked.” He murmured as James undid his shirt, pulling it open, licking kisses down his torso. He could feel his smile as he licked his cock, taking it in his mouth. He bucked at his touch, shrugging his hands out of his coat and shirt at last, the fabric clinging to his sweat slicked body. By that time, James tongue was inside him and Q could barely think. He writhed on the bed, pushing against his face. He felt fingers again, then the rough graze of fabric and James mouth on his, tasting him and himself, not caring, wanting more and then James inside him again, moving more slowly, savouring the sensation, sucking into his skin. He felt his back through the shirt, pulled him deeper as his fingers pressed into his buttocks. He opened his eyes, looking into his lover’s face. His mind flashed with that realisation, what he saw proved that.

 

“Come for me.” His fingers stroked him, soft then hard, he took Q’s hand and placed it in his. He watched him watching him come, his movements quickening with his pace until he paused, releasing, relaxing feeling James do the same, sinking down into him, he wrapped his limbs around him, breathing in his breath.


	10. Chapter 10

James lay along his side, arms pulling him close as his mouth worked on Q’s skin, along his neck, finding his lips. They pressed open mouthed kisses to each other, learning what each of them wanted, how they tasted, letting the room grow black. Q was content. He lay back and let that thought drift through his mind as James’ fingers traced his body.

 

“I should thank Peter.” Q raised his brow fractionally. James grinned at him. “Yes, your mutual immediate adoration rather spurred me into action.” 

 

“I did notice.”

 

“You obviously weren’t concerned about his lifestyle choices.” Q laughed quietly.

 

“No, you’ve worn any aversions down.”

 

“Good.” His fingers trailed idly over James’ arm. 

 

“I’m still going to see Peter.”

 

“I know. I’m still going to kill people.” He kissed him softly. “There’s nothing ordinary in our lives.’

 

“Good.” He pulled himself out of James’ embrace. “Now that we’ve had our serious talk, I’m going to wash.” James laughed and they went to clean up in the shower, still too strung out on their encounter for anything more. He went back to the bedroom and picked up his strewn clothing with James following.

 

"Leaving already?" He asked with a moue of disappointment.

 

"You want me too?" He grinned as he pulled on his shorts, pausing momentarily. He'd no intention of doing so, he was just tidying them so that they wouldn’t be wholly unwearable, but paused, suddenly conscious of how much clothing to put on.

 

"No, of course not." James grinned, sliding an arm around him, catching his hesitation. "Hungry?" Q nodded remembering that he'd only had breakfast. "There's a good Italian nearby." He said and kissed him lightly. "Going out would be good, seeing as I'm not as young as I was. I need the recovery time." He winked and started dressing.

 

The restaurant was rather nice, quietly tucked away, but obviously well liked by a loyal clientele. There were lots of quiet nooks too, he noted, one of which the waitress directed them to. James smiled beatifically at her. 

 

"Thank you Teresa." Q grinned at him when she left to get their drinks orders.

 

"Come here often with your conquests then?" James laughed and looked slightly shamefaced for a moment. 

 

"I'm not as bad as you think, really. You only see me on missions, I don't actually fuck everything that moves.” Q looked innocent faced at him. “I mean, think about it. I often don't get that much downtime. “ Q considered and nodded, sometimes missions were back to back. “ I actually like some time on my own to recharge, with no one caring or watching over me. Delightful though that it." He smiled at Q. "Not being someone else, not being in mortal danger, or about to be that to my mark." He paused, indicating around him with a nod of his head. "They know me here. Maria, the owner, is always going on about me bringing someone here. She must be delighted." Q laughed while taking in the reality of his words, they made a lot of sense. He also noted that he was the first.

 

“So my being here?” James grinned and placed his hand on his thigh.

 

“Hmm. Interesting that.” He leaned forward slightly and Q met his lips for a kiss, deepening it for a moment. “I’ve wanted to ask you out for ages, but you know how it is, or rather was, in your mind, didn’t think you’d be too keen. Then you practically drooled over Peter.”

 

“Yes, think you’d rather persuaded me that being a trained killer was a positive trait for a lover.” James laughed.

 

“Yeah, so it seems.”

 

“Still sure you don’t mind?”

 

“Yes. Having given it some thought. Normal is boring.”

 

“A lot of thought?” James’ hand moved up his thigh, the edge of his finger resting on his groin.

 

“Well, you having another lover hadn’t figured before, but I find myself strangely unperturbed by that. I like Peter, so that helps. And nothing that happened earlier seemed to suggest that you were holding back from me and if Peter isn’t bothered.” He shrugged. “My chances of dying are rather than higher than normal, so at least you’ll have someone else.” He winked and Q burst out laughing.

 

“Yes, a backup plan. I’m nothing, if not thorough.”

 

“And intoxicating.” His hand ghosted lightly over Q’s groin.

 

“James.” Heat flushed through him, his breath caught in a soft exhale. Their mouths were close, Q leaned and whispered into his ear. “I’m going to fuck you senseless when we get back.” He felt James’ hand tighten on his leg, a small explosion of sound escaped his lips as Q sat back up straight. “So, just the one course then?” He turned his attention to the menu, trying to distract his mind from the insistent ache in his groin.

 

They ate their meal in near silence, their body language and occasional comments were enough to fill in the gaps and the food deserved their full attention. Besides, neither of them were really given to full flown emotional declarations.

 

Somehow, they managed to get back to James’ without fucking in an alleyway. Q followed him into the flat, this time he wanted to feel his skin, he pulled off his shirt as James did the same, walking along the corridor to the bedroom, not getting there as James grabbed him, mouth hot against his, pulling him into a tight embrace, hands dragging down his skin. He undid his trousers, they fell as James pulled down his shorts, hand grasping his cock as Q moaned, digging his nails into James’ back. He sank to his knees, taking it into his mouth, Q felt the hot wetness as his eyes closed, the deft working of his tongue and lips. He thrust his hips as James’ moved faster, using his hand, the other holding his hip, encouraging his thrusts. He felt himself close and pulled back, looking into James’ eyes, dark with desire. He slid down and pushed him onto the floor, mouth finding his, tongue licking his, fingers undoing his trousers. His cock brushed wetly against James’ abdomen, Q pressed harder, wanting the pull of skin along his cock, then pulled back, he was too close to coming. 

 

He knelt back and pulled James’ trousers down, digging into his pocket to find the lube he’d taken with him, chucking it to James who caught it deftly, opening it as Q removed the rest of his clothes. They kissed again. He felt the cool slick of the gel on his cock as James took them both in his fist, he was vaguely aware of sounds coming from both their mouths as their cocks rubbed together. He kissed a wet trail down his neck, his chest, sucking hard on his nipples as James’ groaned, he followed the trail of his muscles, tongue licking down their length, down his cock, wet and hard. James bucked into his mouth as his fingers curled around the base, squeezing and sliding over his shaft, before trailing over the soft skin of his perineum. His tongue followed, licking a broad path as James’ breathing intensified. He penetrated him, cautious at first, unsure if he would mind. He pushed and licked harder as he felt his hips thrust, he moved his mouth back to his cock and his fingers toyed with the wet slickness, exploring him as he moved to kiss him again. James pulled his head to him, thrusting against his fingers as his tongue did the same to Q. His hand found his cock, slicking him again and guiding him to penetrate him. He pulled out his fingers and pushed in, he was close to coming and James pulled him in, his body pressing hard against his.

 

“Just fuck me now. Hard. I need to come.” He bit his neck, on the previous mark as Q’s body built up a hard, fast rhythm. “I need you Q.” His words barely intelligible as he came hard. 

 

“James, James, fuck, yes…”

 

James’ muscles spasmed hard around his cock, coaxing out the last of his orgasm, as he sank onto James’ chest. He felt his arms around him, stroking his hair, lips pressing against his skin as he recovered.

 

“Do you think we could make it to the bed next time?” James muttered. “My back.” Q grinned and rolled off, feeling the slight sting from the carpet burn on his knees.

 

“I shall refrain from comment.” He quipped as he ran to the bed.


	11. Chapter 11

He pressed the intercom to Peter's flat, mentally picturing him crossing the space to buzz him in. This time he walked up at a normal pace, delaying the moment, though he wanted to run up, two at a time. He was showered, changed and vaguely mentally separated from being with James. But not by much. He shook his head, as if that would clear it and laughed quietly. It'd get easier, more space between seeing them, maybe, especially when they were away, but at the moment, he needed to see Peter as much as he did James. 

 

He'd left James mid morning, despite his reluctance to do so, but he needed time to shower and change again, he wanted to smell of his normal stuff, not James, not just for Peter's sake, but he didn't want James' being present between them. Well, not yet. He pushed that thought away.

 

"Missed you." He muttered. Peter was looking delectable. He was dressed casually, his shirt was untucked, patterned and mostly unbuttoned. Q grinned. It wasn't exactly what he'd intended to say, but it would more than suffice. He certainly had, more than he'd expected to.

 

"Missed you too." They kissed briefly, then pushed the door closed and Q followed him into the kitchen, feeling suddenly hungry at the intense aroma drifting through the flat. Peter did a quick check through the oven window, placed a bowl from the counter into the fridge and wiped the surface. "Dinner will be another half hour." He glanced at Q. "Okay, with you?" He nodded and slipped an arm around his waist. 

 

"Mmm, it smells delicious." He kissed the underside of his jaw.

 

"Thanks, I’ve made kleftiko and various salads. There's some bread too, if you want." Q pressed a further kiss into his skin.

 

"God, I think I could love you. Brutal assassin, fantastic in bed and you can cook too. What more could a man want?" Peter turned round laughing and caught him in his arms, backing him towards the bedroom.

 

"Hold that thought."

 

Peter kissed his neck, working along his hairline, the ridge of his spine, as his body pressed close. Q sank back under his touch, feeling his hands stroke his chest, catching them, running his fingers along his arms, tucking into his sleeves, arms crossed, hugging himself as he melted into his embrace.

 

“I missed you.” The words were muffled into his skin. “I wanted you.” He felt Peter’s cock pressing into him. “I need you.” Their lips met and he turned to him, arms haphazardly re-engaging, pulling him close. He tasted him, exploring his mouth, wanting more. He pushed his fingers through his thick hair, smelling the clean, slight sweat, fingertips sliding over his face, re-remembering its contours.

 

“I’m yours.” He spoke into his mouth, their kiss swallowed the sound and his body moved involuntarily, rocking against his lover, wanting possession, wanting to be possessed.

 

They made it to the bed, clothing discarded with the minimum of fuss and Peter knelt above him, lips locked, muscles taut, holding him up. Q broke the kiss, looking at his body, imprinting it visually as his fingers traced his contours as Peter braced onto one arm and did the same. He felt the tip of a finger on his cock, catching the bead of fluid, he watched as he raised it to his lips.

 

“We didn’t use condoms.” He saw the pause, the implications, the knowledge being imparted, that was already known by all three of them. He licked his finger, pale grey-green eyes not leaving Q’s face.

 

“So I may taste him on you? Feel his come inside you as I fuck you?” His cock jumped at the words.

 

“Or vice versa.”

 

“I haven’t so far.”

 

“Not in my mouth?” Q looked with a coy, enquiring smile. Peter kissed him, tongue exploring deeply as he lay down upon him. Q felt the weight, wrapped his limbs around him.

 

“No.” He kissed down his body and took his cock in his mouth and Q pushed into it, a low groan accompanying his thrust and he pulled at his hair. He felt Peter’s fingers in his skin pulling him deeper. The wet heat of his mouth was incredible, he wanted to come, but then the cool air tensed his skin as Peter's mouth moved downwards, opening him up, increasing the sounds from his mouth. He felt the soft, wet feel of his tongue joined by fingers wet with lube He hadn’t even noticed that happening. He felt around and found the bottle, wetting his hand and pulling Peter up, finding his cock. It was hard and perfect, it filled his fist as he slicked it, feeling Peter’s groans into his mouth.

 

“Fuck me, Peter, fuck me.” He knew his voice trembled, the need making it reedy, desperate. He felt the slight burn as Peter held the head of his cock just inside and waited. They looked at each other, Peter holding back from thrusting as the muscle held him tight. It was good, so good. He let his head fall back as his hips pushed for more. A smile ghosted Peter’s lips as he held back.

 

“God. You’re perfect.”

 

“And you’re a teasing bastard.” He laughed and Peter slid into him and they thrust together, Q holding back, wanting Peter to come, feeling him spasm, as held held himself from the brink, watching his face as he dissolved.

 

The insistent beep of the oven broke the moment and Peter slid out to rescue their lunch. Q lay there for a moment, still hard, not that it mattered, Peter's pleasure was more than enough and he was buzzing. He pulled himself up and out of bed, joining him in the kitchen.

 

"Can I help?" 

 

"No, it's fine, I'll just let the lamb rest for a while." His grin was positively feral as he licked Q's lips. "Where were we?"

 

The thing about Peter, Q decided, was he liked to see things through. By the time he recovered, with Peter wiping his lips, bounding up from kneeling to support him, as his legs were rather wobbly, Q knew he wanted him rather more permanently, both in his life and at work. 

 

 

 

"What's your name?"

 

"You know that's classified info, need to know and all that." Q laughed.

 

"Yeah, I need to know." Peter grinned in return and refilled their glasses.

 

"I'd have to kill you and I really don't want to have to do that." He leant forward and kissed him softly.

 

"Fine." He mock huffed, they both knew he had seen Q's files, he couldn't imagine him not knowing as much as he did about him. Despite his sometimes brusque, macho exterior, like James, he was no slouch when it came to tech, another endearing factor in Q's surrender. Peter took a long, slow sip and regarded him intently. 

 

"Less of an issue if I was Six?" He looked questioningly at him.

 

"Possibly." He played with the stem of his wineglass. "You know that M wants to recruit you?" He nodded as he put his glass down.

 

"Of course, he'd be a fool not too and I'd be rather naive to think you wouldn't try. Not necessarily you personally." He looked intently at Q. "They tasked you?" He nodded.

 

"But that's not why...." Peter finished his wine, pushing his plate away. 

 

"I know." His face darkened for a moment. "But even if that was the case, I'd not regret what we've had." He stood and came to stand in front of him. “What we have.”  
Q's stomach flipped, Peter wasn't supposed to be so bloody perceptive when it came to real emotions.

 

 

Fucking him over the kitchen counter, buried in him, stroking him, making him come over the polished granite surface as he repeatedly calls your name, further cements his resolve. 

 

"M will be pleased." Peter purred once he could speak again.

 

"Not as much as I am, I hope." Peter's grin creased into his eyes. "To be honest, hacking into Five's servers every time you went on mission would've been a pain in the arse. Much better to just let me handle you."


End file.
